Chapter 5: Memories
The interior of the small ship was metallic and steel cold. She was led down a narrow hallway. Their procession came to rest in front of a door marked 'CELL 1B.' It opened. Darth Vader motioned with his leather-gloved hand for her to enter. He followed her in. She cautiously entered her prison, then sat on the hard bench. 'Now you stop this! Do what he says, but you don't have to act all scared and wimpy!' Kela thought. She hardened her face, widened her eyes, and prayed that she didn't screw up.
Darth Vader watched her change in poise. She was reasonably fit, had a strong will, cautious, and wasn't quick-tempered. He observed her realize that attempts to escape were futile and weren't worth the likely injuries. She was also very logical, probably brutal as well. She was partially affluent in the Force. She could levitate things, read emotions in others, and use it to guide her physical actions. Good. She already knew the basics. He would take care of the rest.
Although he had now analyzed her present state, he barely knew anything about the girl's past. That would have to change.
Suddenly, Kela felt a jolt in her skull. Somebody other than her was listening to her thoughts. Before she knew it, memories she had pushed to the back of her mind were yanked forth. Horribly graphic images of people of blaster shots shooting from her direction, burning flesh, weeping victims of her fallen enemies, starving tribes, late nights at dirty cantinas making deals with smugglers and gang leaders. it didn't stop. 'Please, please, no more.'
Darth Vader was pleased. She didn't know how to shield her thoughts, so the mind reading was relatively easy. For someone so young who had seen and done so much, she didn't appear at all traumatized or shaken. Still, there was something deeper. He would find it.
Kela could feel it coming. The mechanical tower of power before her had already seen the past four filthy, wretched years of her life. She neck became weak with dread. She couldn't even attempt to straighten her back. The memory washed over her senses.
A cold, lifeless metal room. Hands eagerly weaving a small quilt. With colors. Beautiful colors. Tomorrow was Rogi's birthday. She had to get it done. The door opens. Clicking of heels. Arms grabbing hers. Neat, white labcoats brushing roughly against her skin. She was pulled out of the room. She looked straight towards her weaving.
"No, I can't! Not now! Please!"
They don't listen. There's three of them. They continue to walk.
"No, no! Please!"
She hesitated. She didn't want to get in trouble. She had to be good. There had to be a way.
"How about tomorrow? I promise I'll be good! The test, tomorrow before first meal! I'll do it!"
They turn a corner. They wouldn't listen to her. Come on, listen to me!
"At least talk to me!" The room draws nearer.
They don't care. I've always known that. But. what about Rogi's gift. No, it's more than that. They've never listened.
A raw, hot anger starts to trickle. She stops in her tracks. She pushes the professionals away.
They turn, surprised. But they look stern. They tell her to come.
The anger grows. I want out. Out, OUT OF HERE! Away from all this. A strange electricity zips through her veins. It's strange, yet, welcoming. A power. Her open mouth takes the airy form of a dangerous smile. The scientists rush forward. She runs.
With each step the power builds. One of them leaps forward. Yet she feels no fear. Even when she searched for it, almost certain it was there, it wasn't. She turned. And the electricity rushed from inside through the hands. And all that power, that anger, exploded. Fire, smoke, everything burning. She didn't cough. A layer of this power protected her. For day and night, she sat in that bubble and watched calmly, unmoved by the fiery chaos surrounding her. She ate underground vegetation for two days while nature took it's course and the fire ceased to exist. She then walked. A village came into sight. When they saw her coming from the explosion area unharmed and coolly normal, she watched with uncertainty. She scanned the area and found a high rock. She walked to it and climbed to the top while the others watched. She took her hand and raised it towards a tree. It burned. She waited two minutes. Then the awed crowd bowed. One elder looked up to her from the ground and asked,
"What does thy wish, Kela." Hmmm. Kela. She remembered that name. It was a native word that meant 'supreme power' in the feminine form. Supreme power. I could get used to this.
"Lord Vader, another native has been found."
Kela jumped. She unconsciously reached for the cold bench. The cell. Darth Vader. Reality sunk in.
"Bring him here."
The cell door slid open. A uniformed official that looked just as lifeless as the steel walls pushed forward a thin, fair-haired boy. He had deep set brown eyes and wore loose combat clothes popular to local smugglers and gangs. His hard face looked up and melted.
Kela sat there. She sighed a sigh of age, then smiled a smile of youth. She nodded a neutral, polite nod, and allowed herself to say one thing.
"Hello, Rogi."
The interior of the small ship was metallic and steel cold. She was led down a narrow hallway. Their procession came to rest in front of a door marked 'CELL 1B.' It opened. Darth Vader motioned with his leather-gloved hand for her to enter. He followed her in. She cautiously entered her prison, then sat on the hard bench. 'Now you stop this! Do what he says, but you don't have to act all scared and wimpy!' Kela thought. She hardened her face, widened her eyes, and prayed that she didn't screw up.
Darth Vader watched her change in poise. She was reasonably fit, had a strong will, cautious, and wasn't quick-tempered. He observed her realize that attempts to escape were futile and weren't worth the likely injuries. She was also very logical, probably brutal as well. She was partially affluent in the Force. She could levitate things, read emotions in others, and use it to guide her physical actions. Good. She already knew the basics. He would take care of the rest.
Although he had now analyzed her present state, he barely knew anything about the girl's past. That would have to change.
Suddenly, Kela felt a jolt in her skull. Somebody other than her was listening to her thoughts. Before she knew it, memories she had pushed to the back of her mind were yanked forth. Horribly graphic images of people of blaster shots shooting from her direction, burning flesh, weeping victims of her fallen enemies, starving tribes, late nights at dirty cantinas making deals with smugglers and gang leaders. it didn't stop. 'Please, please, no more.'
Darth Vader was pleased. She didn't know how to shield her thoughts, so the mind reading was relatively easy. For someone so young who had seen and done so much, she didn't appear at all traumatized or shaken. Still, there was something deeper. He would find it.
Kela could feel it coming. The mechanical tower of power before her had already seen the past four filthy, wretched years of her life. She neck became weak with dread. She couldn't even attempt to straighten her back. The memory washed over her senses.
A cold, lifeless metal room. Hands eagerly weaving a small quilt. With colors. Beautiful colors. Tomorrow was Rogi's birthday. She had to get it done. The door opens. Clicking of heels. Arms grabbing hers. Neat, white labcoats brushing roughly against her skin. She was pulled out of the room. She looked straight towards her weaving.
"No, I can't! Not now! Please!"
They don't listen. There's three of them. They continue to walk.
"No, no! Please!"
She hesitated. She didn't want to get in trouble. She had to be good. There had to be a way.
"How about tomorrow? I promise I'll be good! The test, tomorrow before first meal! I'll do it!"
They turn a corner. They wouldn't listen to her. Come on, listen to me!
"At least talk to me!" The room draws nearer.
They don't care. I've always known that. But. what about Rogi's gift. No, it's more than that. They've never listened.
A raw, hot anger starts to trickle. She stops in her tracks. She pushes the professionals away.
They turn, surprised. But they look stern. They tell her to come.
The anger grows. I want out. Out, OUT OF HERE! Away from all this. A strange electricity zips through her veins. It's strange, yet, welcoming. A power. Her open mouth takes the airy form of a dangerous smile. The scientists rush forward. She runs.
With each step the power builds. One of them leaps forward. Yet she feels no fear. Even when she searched for it, almost certain it was there, it wasn't. She turned. And the electricity rushed from inside through the hands. And all that power, that anger, exploded. Fire, smoke, everything burning. She didn't cough. A layer of this power protected her. For day and night, she sat in that bubble and watched calmly, unmoved by the fiery chaos surrounding her. She ate underground vegetation for two days while nature took it's course and the fire ceased to exist. She then walked. A village came into sight. When they saw her coming from the explosion area unharmed and coolly normal, she watched with uncertainty. She scanned the area and found a high rock. She walked to it and climbed to the top while the others watched. She took her hand and raised it towards a tree. It burned. She waited two minutes. Then the awed crowd bowed. One elder looked up to her from the ground and asked,
"What does thy wish, Kela." Hmmm. Kela. She remembered that name. It was a native word that meant 'supreme power' in the feminine form. Supreme power. I could get used to this.
"Lord Vader, another native has been found."
Kela jumped. She unconsciously reached for the cold bench. The cell. Darth Vader. Reality sunk in.
"Bring him here."
The cell door slid open. A uniformed official that looked just as lifeless as the steel walls pushed forward a thin, fair-haired boy. He had deep set brown eyes and wore loose combat clothes popular to local smugglers and gangs. His hard face looked up and melted.
Kela sat there. She sighed a sigh of age, then smiled a smile of youth. She nodded a neutral, polite nod, and allowed herself to say one thing.
"Hello, Rogi."